God's War
In The Beginning, there were five stars. Just five, shining brightly in a sea of endless, black oblivion. These stars did not know how they had come to be, nor could they predict what the future held in store. They did not know why they had come to possess coherent thought and feeling. They did not even know their names. Isolated in the primordial darkness, the five stars huddled together, their light molding into fragile slivers of who they would become. Tentatively, they began to name one another, and each name spoken rang a pure note through the emptiness that blanketed them. Alya, the pegasus, god of sky. Ignacio, the kirin, god of flame. Cascade, the hippocampus, god of water. Argus, the horse, god of arcane. Kaia, the unicorn, god of earth. The stars felt these titles in their souls, and knew them to be true. They had names, and they had each other. For a time, it was enough... Until it wasn't. Something was missing. Each star, each god, felt an emptiness within their chests deeper than the darkness at their backs. They needed to create. Soon, that desire manifested into tangibility. The gods realized that, when united, they could create with a brush of mere thought. The five swiftly banded together, and began to wield their individual talents in a great collaboration. On that day, the first of days, they shaped a world into existence. The First Day Kaia shaped the mountains and plains, breathing life into the long grass and the sturdy trees. Cascade filled the barren stretches of the planet with bountiful oceans, and kissed the plains with her lakes and rivers. Alya formed the moon and clouds above, and brought the winds below. Ignacio hung the sun in the sky, so that it might sustain the planet with gentle warmth, and Argus added his touch to everything, imbuing a spark of magic in all that was. Their creation almost complete, the starborn gods descended upon the planet to add their finishing touch. They had crafted a world, and it was only right that it should be a world inherited. Separating to different continents, the gods created children in their own image, and those children would go on to form the first herds. In those early days, the gods walked among their people, leaders in the eyes of their creations. The kirins of Eithne, the unicorns of Onea, the pegasi of Sedo, the hippocampi of Aquore and the horses of Sirith lived in peaceful, separated harmony. For a time, it was enough. Until again, it wasn’t. For there was a danger lurking, hidden behind the shining eyes of each god every time they beheld one of their creations, one of the mortals made in their own image. The danger was pride, for how could each god not view their personal creations as the best? And as each god became more sequestered within their mortal’s territory, so they became more distant from the other gods. Stars are not meant to spend so long a time upon the earth, to concern themselves with mortal thoughts and emotions... For each element, each god, the danger varied in severity, according to their individual nature and the form that their own pride took as they beheld their flourishing creations. Argus, god of the arcane, took quiet pride in the simplicity of his horses, with their lack of horns, wings, and fins. For they did not need frills, did not need anything beyond their own latent, seething power, clearly marking them as the supreme beings. And he was content. Alya, the winged god of sky, felt her heart soar with the fierce pride of her pegasi as they knifed through the heavens, like so many colourful, glittering stars of her own creation. They were fierce and independent, and she knew they were supreme. And she was content. Kaia, god of the earth and all of its varied flora, knew the quiet, unshakable strength of her tough, independent unicorns. She watched them as they took root to her land, as they thrived and bloomed in the face of adversity. Kaia knew that these hardy creatures of hers were supreme. And she was content. Cascade, god of the plentiful waters that sustained Hireath, watched with a quiet, bubbling joy as her own hippocampi asserted themselves as paragons of creativity and generosity, and she knew they were supreme. And she was content. Ignacio, god of fire, felt his heart burn fiercely as the the valor and beauty of his kirins, unmatched by any of his sibling’s creations, only grew, a spiraling crescendo of pride in his soul. They were proud, strong, beautiful, and they were of him; he knew they were supreme. And he was far from content. Fire, if not carefully tended and continuously fed, ebbs and dies. It is not fire’s nature to be complacent, to stagnate. Fire is dynamic, always changing and growing. And so Ignacio fed that fire. Flames of War Moving among his people, his kirins, Ignacio inspired them with his greatness and with his majesty. His loyal, glorious creations took that inspiration and flared all the greater. And so they fed that pride, that sense of greatness and majesty, right back into Ignacio’s burning heart. The events that followed were, perhaps, inevitable. They later agreed, the gods, that they should have seen it coming. Should have been able to stop it. But they were blind in their own arrogance, and forgot a simple truth: Fire can only survive by growing, and can only grow by consuming. By obliterating. And so it was that as the other gods moved among their subjects, praising and elevating them, Ignacio continued to spur his kirins to greater glory, greater achievements. Valore, the capital city of Eithne, established itself as the most advanced and luxurious accomplishment to grace Hireath. But it wasn’t enough; fire can never be content. Swollen with the pride and love he felt for his beautiful kirins, even Ignacio missed the warning signs as they kindled within him; or perhaps, he didn’t care. It didn’t matter in the end. For as Ignacio fed his kirins, so they fed him in return. His words only increased their drive, and so their results only increased his pride. They were trapped, locked in a crescendoing maelstrom of arrogance. Eventually, the kirins and their god became so intertwined, so glorious, that they lost all sense of themselves. Stars should not concern themselves with the affairs of the mortals, and mortals should not allow themselves the arrogance of the gods. The twinned gazes of mortal and god turned, inevitably, to the land beyond their own borders. They were fierce, they were beautiful, they were supreme. They were fire, and the world would know their majesty. Or it would burn. With that promise burning in their eyes, and a god’s blessing blistering their hearts, Ignacio’s kirins turned to the unsuspecting, peaceful horses of the east. And so it was that Breim was the first to fall. Sirith Falls ' ' Of course these horses of Argus were unprepared, unsuspecting. When the kirins blasted their way into Sirith, the horses were so shocked, so utterly aghast at this unprecedented act of war, they could only stand still. And Argus, as wrapped up in the higher path of magical studies and intellectual pursuits that his mortals were, was caught equally unprepared. Before the horses could rally, could act, the capital had been destroyed. With ash darkening the sky, choking the air, the surviving horses were given a choice. Surrender and become slave to the glorious fire empire, or witness true destruction. Shocked, broken, betrayed, those horses never had a chance. But Breim was only the first casualty; already the kirins were looking to the north and its vast, largely untapped resources. Leaving a broken, smoking kingdom in their wake, the main force of the army moved out. Wrapped up in the affairs of their own mortals they may have been, the gods were still so closely entwined that this radical change in the status quo did not go unnoticed. Nor did the change in Argus; so closely connected to his horses, he had no time, no way to separate himself from their collective consciousness in time, and was near-incapacitated in the emotional backlash. But even had they failed to notice that, they certainly would not have missed what came next. Ah, arcane was such an underestimated element, so different from the other tangible and earthly elements. Ethereal, ephemeral, and delicate, so Argus and his horses took after the form of their element. But arcane, so vastly more complicated than those other elements, has a different side, a darker side, largely untapped by the horses of Hireath or their god. Until now. His people attacked, enslaved, his own body and mind besieged and attacked, Argus suddenly felt a shift within his soul, his very essence. And that long denied, long unused portion of himself suddenly came bursting to the fore, and it cared not at all for any such trivial concerns such as flesh and blood injury. The dark arcane demanded release, and Argus no longer had the ability -or desire- to deny it. He bowed his head, among the smoke, and screams, and wreckage, and he shuddered. Once. There was a sudden scream of discord, a shifting and realigning of the balance of magic, and then Argus erupted. Dark arcane is wild, is untamed, uncontrollable. And firmly in its throes, glorying in sudden freedom, Argus gave full rein to his impulses, his desire. And he desired nothing so much as an outlet for his rage, his pain, his thirst for vengeance. His people, his creations, were dead. If they could not have his land, so carefully cultivated by him, then no one would. Kirins and horses alike had again only a small moment of warning, that shiver of dissonance, before Argus had erupted, unleashing his wild magic in such a blast of destruction that the damage done by the kirins was light and trivial, in comparison. Sirith as it was known was destroyed that day, first by the kirins and then by Argus. He sundered the earth, altered the very landscape with each blast of his magic that razed the land, leaving in its wake leveled trees, fouled lakes and gaping holes in the earth itself. No, this did not go unnoticed by the other gods indeed. Their responses took varying forms. Cascade, god of the fierce, healing waters, turned her immediate attention to sheltering the lucky and resourceful horses that managed to flee the destruction of Breim, opening her borders for the first time to non-hippocampi. She felt it was her duty to help these wronged mortals, and felt no small sense of arrogance in the process, secure as she was in the knowledge that she would not have been caught so unprepared, her hippocampi not so effortlessly destroyed. Kaia, always slow to anger and slow to act until she had given a situation due consideration, reluctantly turned her affairs from her mortals. Having always been on good terms with her fiery brother, Kaia initially tried to talk, to rationalize with Ignacio. Perhaps he was unaware, perhaps he could stop them- She was met with an impenetrable wall, so effectively rebuffed that she felt her mind reeling. It wasn’t that Ignacio did not wish to talk to her, or the others, but that he seemed unable to hear them. It was only then that Kaia realized how dangerously close the god had tied his soul to his mortals. Horrified, Kaia turned to Alya, the only other god willing and able to help, and beseeched her aid. Alya was as shocked as her earth sister. She was also furious. Together, she and Kaia launched a desperate attack against Ignacio’s mental walls, assailing him, doing their best to turn their brother’s attention back to them. It was only then that the two sisters, earth and air, realized the full horror of the situation; never before had they been unable to talk, to reach, to communicate with one of their own. Ignacio’s war crimes were horrific, but his disconnect from them? They could imagine nothing more terrible. Until they did get through to him. They did not recognize the eyes, the thoughts, the very essence of their brother as he acknowledged them. He was utterly and completely alien, and spared time for only a contemptuous push, severing the hard won contact. But not before a trickle of his intent, a flash of his thoughts, filtered through their tenuous, fleeting link: he would not, could not stop- and he was sending his kirins north to Onea. With a scream of rage that rippled and trembled through the very earth, Kaia shattered her own link to Alya, and turned her attentions to her unicorns, preparing them for war. Left reeling on her own, Alya initially resumed railing against Ignacio. If anyone could get through to him, could make him understand, it had to be her. But he resisted her with an indifferent, distracted ease; indeed, he seemed unaware of her attempts. Frightened and angry, the air god turned her attention to Cascade, the only of her siblings left with a smidgen of reason, of calm, as she directed and absorbed the continuous trickle of refugees. Cascade was always the most compassionate of the siblings, but she was also fierce and tempestuous, her moods ebbing and flowing like the sea. Cascade was grave and attentive as Alya relayed to her all that she and Kaia had learned, that Kaia now was preparing for war- and that Alya would not be letting Kaia do it alone. Here the sky god paused expectantly, confidently. Cascade shook her head sorrowfully; she agreed that it was indeed a great tragedy for the siblings to be turning against themselves in this way. But would she join with earth and air, lending the strength of water to avenge the arcane and to stop the encroaching threat of fire? Again, a sorrowful headshake, laced with disapproval and… a certain smugness. Oh, the god of water did not glory in the ruin of her siblings, but she did glory in the strength and immunity of her own mortals, who were so superior as to be caring for the other, lesser creations as they fled. Alya did not take this well. Even more so than fire, air was the most unstable, the most volatile element. Nothing could rage so suddenly and wildly as a windstorm, and Alya, pushed past the point of her limited patience, unleashed her full fury against the placidity of Cascade. But still waters run deep, and Cascade remained stubbornly unruffled by her sister’s demands. She would aid the wounded, but she would not attack her own brother, would not be party to this outrageous behavior. So Alya did the only thing that made sense to her in the rapidly disintegrating situation, and returned to her own trusted desert pegasi. My beautiful creations, she said to them, the wind beneath my wings, the jewels of the sky. It is time for you to prove yourselves as never before. As Alya’s fierce heart soared with pride, her children rose magnificently to the occasion, and dropped everything to fly north to the aid of their unicorn cousins, and Hireath as they knew it. They were almost too late. Kaia had rallied her own creations, warning them of the horror sweeping their way. But her children, tough as they were, were also independent and cautious, spread out throughout all of Kaia’s vast continent. And they were peaceful, simple, self-sufficient creatures, content to live off the land with the strength of their hooves and the ingenuity of their minds. Despite the glittering weapons sprouting from their heads, they were not warriors. So despite Kaia’s warnings and bolstering presence, the unicorns were woefully unprepared for the kirins and their all consuming fire. Too independent to come together in an organized defense, they were easy pickings for the cohesive wave of fire that surged and burned through Onea’s plentiful forests, heading unerringly for the unofficial capital and seat of Kaia’s power: Mount Skeldr. The destruction of the surrounding forests and hills had perhaps one benefit- it forced the surviving unicorns to flee towards Skeldr, and to unite, whether they intended to or not. Of course, had Kaia not been there on Skeldr herself, this benefit might have been lost; peaceful the unicorns may have been, but only in their secluded clans, and only in a time of peace and abundance. Suddenly shunted together in the midst of chaos, they might well have finished the kirins' work for them had Kaia not intervened. And intervene she did, shedding enough of her mortal body to slam an earth-sundering hoof to the ground. MY CHILDREN, she spoke to them, her very voice resonating and rumbling through the earth beneath each set of hooves. Your quarrel is not with each other, you who were all created in my image. Your fight today is with those coming to destroy you- if you honor me, you will not let them! Thus it was only by the unifying presence of their god that the unicorns of the north, clustered together on Skeldr’s craggy slopes, were able to muster any sort of final cohesive defense at all. Their position on the high ground forced the kirins to fight for each and every inch that they advanced, yet advance they did, through cascading sheets of ice and a rumbling, cracking earth that split beneath their hooves. Desperately, furiously, Kaia set trap after trap upon her mountain, and though some kirins fell, so many, too many, did not, and they marched steadily upwards in a billowing cloud of flame. Where, Kaia thought desperately, where are they pulling such strength from? Certainly they were tied irrevocably to Ignacio, but just so she was lending her own strength to the unicorns. They should not have been able to glide across the earth, her earth, with such ease! With another scream of rage that rocked Skeldr to its very core, Kaia again cracked the earth beneath the kirins. And by doing so Kaia learned her mistake: Skeldr was not just a mountain; it was a volcano. The kirins were drawing strength from the mountain, HER mountain. So swept away in her own sudden burst of fury, Kaia leaked her rage and (for a mortal) suicidal thirst for revenge to her unicorns, whipping them up into a frenzy as they massed, preparing for a final offensive surge down the mountain, to clash with the main army head on. WAIT But the earth would not wait, could not wait, all of the usurpers would know its might as it crushed- SISTER, WAIT, WE COME And so the pegasi did, as the unicorns paused, descending suddenly like a glittering rain of death from the swirling, smoking heavens. And at their head, her multitude of wings beating the smoking air into a maelstrom, glowing like a miniature sun, was Alya. Startled out of their attack, the kirins hesitated for the first time in their offense as they looked to the skies. Their mistake was two-fold, for even as the pegasi plummeted into their ranks, so did the unicorns swarm down the mountain in a full assault that was no longer a suicidal gambit. The swooping pegasi became the hammer that swept the kirins, fire and all, into the unshakable anvil of the unicorns, and the kirins were mercilessly crushed between the two. Alya’s creations were as fierce and wild as she who created them; the kirins suddenly found themselves lunging and attacking at shadows, gone before they were fully seen and leaving destruction in their wake. And unlike both kirins and unicorns, the children of the air were able to manipulate the hazy, smoke-filled skies to their advantage. The kirins could step through blasts of fire without so much a singed whisker, and the choking ash had no effect on their their calm, steady breathing as they fought for dominion over the mountain. But blessed as they were with an affinity for infernos, they had no latent ability to see through the smoke they had created. And so it was that as Alya’s feathered gems swooped and dived, they churned the air, manipulating it deftly so that openings and clearings appeared for them and the unicorns- but were gone, the veil dropping once more, for straining kirin eyes. Furious fireballs, arcing out of the smoke and into the sky above were the kirin’s retort. A few met their mark, but only a few, for as the kirins rationality became more tattered and compromised, so the their attacks became more impulsive and reactionary. With this advantage Kaia’s army was able to push the floundering kirins back down their mountain, one stride at a time. And as the kirins, besieged by both the air and the land, were forced to retreat, for the first time two very interesting things happened. First, as both tempestuous Alya and momentous, proud Kaia gloried in the strength and success of their children, so their children began to take heart from each other. The unicorns and the pegasi began to work not merely as separate entities, but as a coordinated, unified force with a common goal. It was the first occasion of different species interacting, let alone working together, and although none knew it at the time or indeed even noticed it, the event marked a turning point in the history of Hireath. The second event that occurred was noticed: as the kirins resolve and righteous zeal for conquest was broken, replaced with surprise, anger, doubt, the bond between them and Ignacio had rung out with a sharp, discordant clang, and suddenly the fire god’s attention was once again available to his siblings. The connection was weak, barely a connection at all, but for the first time in far too long, it was there. And it was met with a blast of fury and violence as Alya and Kaia turned their battle-worn attention to their brother. They had lost many of their mortals already, and Kaia had lost the sanctity of her home. And it was nothing, nothing, compared to the cost of losing him, losing Ignacio. I will take the air you breathe, I will smother your flames- Alya, glorying in the might of her creations. HOW DARE YOU IMPUGN THE EARTH, I WILL CRUSH YOUR BONES, BURY YOU UNTIL NOTHING REMAINS- Kaia, as slow to calm as she was to anger. SISTERS. ENOUGH. Finally, Cascade. But air and earth had been pushed too far, had experienced too much. And both were still reeling from the sudden absence, still aching and hollow, of their brother of arcane. Cascade felt it too, of course- and that growing unease, that sense of wrongness, was perhaps what prompted her. Turning her attention away in disgust from her raging sisters as they continued to battle the kirins back to the south, Cascade approached Ignacio for the first time. Unlike Kaia and Alya, she was able to make contact with the fire god almost immediately. This was due in part to Cascade’s nature- water is ever flowing, ever seeking, and rarely takes “no” for an answer. But mostly Cascade met with success because Ignacio himself was receptive, if only briefly. The fire god was confused, dazed from the fracture in his bond with his kirins as he met with Cascade’s roiling wave of contact. Brother, explain yourself! Her angry demands hammered against Ignacio’s mind like so many pounding waves, and he shrunk from her, nearly severing the hard-won contact. EXPLAIN YOURSELF! Cascade roared as she pursued him, slipping easily around his defences once more. Her fury hammered against his raw senses, and Ignacio’s flames fluttered and danced in the wake of his sister’s storm. I… he… But even as Cascade began to gather that something was still terribly not right with Ignacio, that perhaps Alya and Kaia were not overreacting, Ignacio’s memories had begun to fall back in place, his mind reordering. He realized why his contact with his kirins had been so rudely shaken; they were under attack. Ignacio, brother, you must call off your mortals- Cascade began again, concern now warring with anger. SILENCE. She recoiled. What? Brother- but a storm was brewing, a building heatwave that shimmered and hazed over the contact, driving Cascade back. It was her only warning. HOW DARE YOU! His scream ripped across the contact, proceeded by such an explosion of flame and fury and insanity that Cascade could feel the thread that connected them being shredded in the onslaught. And she could feel the repercussions of this blast in the mortal world, through the spike of fear from her own mortals, the sudden clamor of their pleas for her mercy, for her to help them. Ig-IGNACIO, YOU MUST STOP- MUST? MUST? Ignacio boomed back, each syllable mirrored in the mortal world with a blast, a fissure. Somewhere, Cascade felt dozens of her mortals suddenly wink out of existence with truncated screams as deep jets of boiling water exploded from the ocean floor- her ocean. She froze, for a sliver of a moment as she registered shock- and then she screamed back at him, her powers coalescing, gathering momentum to slam against Ignacio, to drown his fire, dash his body to pieces against the very fabric of existence- And she felt her water evaporate, misting away into oblivion before it ever touched Ignacio, so great was the heat rolling off of him in swirling, dangerous waves. I MUST DO NOTHING, he thundered, growing stronger as he pulled more heat from the fissures on Skeldr and from the ocean floor, as he began to meld once more with the kirins, his kirins, the only worthy creatures to grace this piece of rock. FIRE DOES NOT BOW, DOES NOT YIELD TO THE LESSER ELEMENTS. YOU WILL WITNESS US, OR YOU WILL BURN BENEATH OUR HOOVES. Whether or not Cascade attempted to reason, to threaten or to plead with Ignacio one final time, is not known. Ignacio rendered the question moot, when with a gigantic blast of heat, he severed the connection and returned his full attention to his kirins. Her normally placid heart boiling with pain and rage, Cascade returned to her own people, to the task of caring for the wounded and the refugees, and threw herself back into the tasks with abandon. And although her heart raged, raged, at Ignacio’s transgressions on her people, at the desperate prayers and pleas still rolling across her mind from the wounded and friends of the recently deceased, Cascade did as she bid her people, and she did not get involved with fighting, but only helped clean up the messes of others. The inferiors. Time, when the gods converse among themselves intimately such as Cascade and Ignacio had done, does not travel quite the same as time in the mortal world. It is less linear, and more wobbly. So it was that during the course of said disastrous conversation, Kaia and Alya’s armies had made significant headway in pushing the kirins south. But they had paid for each step, each stride, paid in full with the mingled blood of god and mortal. But slowly, steadily, those fierce, fiery kirins lost ground, having lost the main source of their valor when Ignacio had “left” to be berated by Cascade. They had gained some strength, some resurgence of their heart and fire, when they had been pushed across the borders back into Eithne, but a retreat on to home soil is far from heartening… and Ignacio remained silent, absent. Had he forsaken them, abandoned them to the mercy of the unicorns and pegasi? Or was this a test, a trial by fire in which those who emerged would join the ranks of Ignacio’s elite, his favored? And so they still fought, still refused to break, even as they retreated further and further towards their own capital. And deep, deep down, past the recent turmoil and in their steady cores, Alya and Kaia knew this, and it terrified them. Why, why was this happening? What had gone so wrong, with the kirins, with Ignacio? They thought they knew, but it was too horrible to comprehend. Fighting... fighting was easier. But how long would it last? How long could it last? They did not know, and they were afraid. Pushing the kirins steadily into Eithne, Kaia and Alya agreed to get them into the capital, Valore, where they would hopefully be contained. And then…? Then something would have to be done. They had just barely reached Valore itself, when there was a pause… a sudden stillness, like the quiet of the sky a moment before lighting arcs, and thunder booms. That was Kaia and Alya’s warning to their mortals- ‘WARE! HE COMES- And then a very angry Ignacio had once more joined with his kirins, mingling god and mortal dangerously close, blurring boundaries and senses. Or not totally- The other gods could still feel him, but barely; he was pulling away like sand through a sieve. They were losing him, and the kirins were rallying. They had only moments left. We will hold them- GO! Kaia cried desperately to Alya as unicorns and pegasi together fought to maintain the borders, to keep the burning kirins pinned. They were holding- but not for long. And Alya turned the majority of herself, her essence, from the battle, pointing instead at Ignacio. A lone, golden arrow of connection, flying straight and true down a long-traveled path. It had been decades, centuries, since last Alya and Ignacio had communed together so intimately, but even for the tempestuous air god, the situation was too grave for such petty concerns as of the heart. Ignacio. A soft touch, like feathers skimming over sun-warmed sands. Ignacio, you are better than this; I know you are. You are more than this wasteful bloodshed. And although the fire god did not -at first- deign to reply, it was evident to all that he heard, for the connection remained open, and the kirins remained under Kaia’s control. Barely, barely. You are right. Ah, another of those crystal moments, so still, so full of potential, so heavy with the weight of the world. The gods, all of them, even stubborn Cascade and wounded Argus, dared to hope. And then the lightning lights up the sky, the thunder rends the heavens with its might. I AM better than this. Better than all of you, better than- FOOL! Enraged all the more for that broken moment of hope, Alya screamed at Ignacio and flung herself at him, the tangible essence of her power and thought. Caught entirely by surprise, his attention wavering between her and his mortals, Ignacio thus was staggered, physical wounds raking across his flesh from the sheer venom and asperity of Alya’s rage. You arrogant, self-righteous ember! She railed at him while he recovered and his mortals reeled. How dare you attack me, you blowing excuse of a feather- but he broke off as Alya screamed again, and more rends appeared, slashed across the god’s chest. Even in her anger, Alya felt a flash of surprise as once again Ignacio flickered and dimmed from her onslaught, taking the briefest moment to recover. This was strange; he ought to be stronger, more able to defend himself from Alya. Well they both knew he had experience in that area. He’s weakened because his mortals are- Kaia realized, and at once Alya knew she was right. And then they realized simultaneously that as Ignacio pulled away from Alya’s attack, he was joining once more with the kirins… and as they rallied, so did he. We have to break the bond! Kaia cried, and Alya again threw her essence against Ignacio’s shimmering conscience, distracting him, keeping him with her as much as she could through sheer violence. But it was a rapidly disintegrating situation, and Kaia despaired of maintaining hold on the kirins much longer- already, with Ignacio’s returning strength, the building heat of Valore was becoming unbearable. The earth god feared a conflagration was imminent. YOU CANNOT BREAK OUR BOND! Ignacio’s booming retort shook the very foundations of his city, and Kaia had to work quickly to keep the earth from crumbling beneath her mortals’ hooves, lest they fall into the fiery fissures appearing with every beat of Ignacio’s heart. This was a costly decision; Kaia had not the energy to spare, and as she moved to save her mortals, the kirins surged at once against her weakened defenses. They were spurred on by Ignacio’s triumphant cry as flames burst into the sky and downed more pegasi with every passing moment. WE WILL BURN THIS ROCK TO ASHES, BLAST THE FOUNDATIONS OF THIS REALM AND START ANEW BEFORE YOU BREAK OUR BOND- Kaia screamed her pain and rage and fear, the earth rolling beneath her hooves with her struggles. I CANNOT HOLD THEM- ALYA- But Alya didn’t hear her, didn’t hear anything but the cries of her dying pegasi, and the shrieks from own throat as she hurled herself again and again at Ignacio, her blows sending showers of sparks in the the cosmos, a million stars. The earth continued to tremble in time to Kaia’s ragged breathing. Alone, she was alone and they would fail- No- Kaia hesitated; was that… it couldn’t have been- No- It was broken, tentative, yet growing in strength with each passing heartbeat, aligning to Kaia, bolstering her- NO- you are not alone! It was, it was him- Argus had returned to his siblings, to himself. Wounded, weary and so full of grief that he felt it leaking from his pores, pulling and bursting at his very seams, the god of arcane pulled himself together inch by inch, to do the only thing that made sense: joining with Kaia and Alya. At once Argus’ strength pooled together with Kaia’s, and the trembling earth firmed as the very air was suffused with the arcane, fairly shimmering with his blast of raw power. Weak or no, Argus was still very much a force to be reckoned with, and together he and Kaia once more pushed the kirins tighter, strengthened their defense. Together, with Alya distracting Ignacio, they could hold them, but nothing more. Cascade? Argus queried grimly, as he and Kaia as one joined their Reality Manipulation, creating traps and holes for the kirins, tricking them, keeping them at bay. No. Kaia’s reply, equally grim. Would it have been different, had she joined in them? Decades, centuries they would have to wonder this, but though they would never know, the gods of Hireath rather doubted it. The events that followed were tragic, were devastating, but necessary. So they told themselves, then and now. This is… bad. Worried words from Argus, as he and Kaia together repelled another rallying wave of kirins. Immediately buffeted by Alya’s and Kaia’s incredulous agreement- really, you’re wasting energy to say this to us- he growled in frustration. No, I mean… the arcane god struggled for a moment to collect the abstract, dynamic threads of his thoughts. Sisters, this is wrong. This bond, it should not have been- he broke off for a moment as again Alya lost hold of Ignacio’s attention and the kirins pressed their advantage. The bond is poisoned. Ignacio is no longer… Ignacio. He has mingled his essence too thoroughly. Argus was confirming Kaia’s and Alya’s fears; the arcane would know, would recognize magic gone awry. For a moment the three siblings considered this in silence, the shared horror bouncing between them. Perhaps, if they convinced Cascade to lend her strength…? But Argus was negating the thought before it had even fully formed between them. Even with her, we cannot hope to subdue the mortals, not sufficiently. It would not be enough. We must break the bond! Alya, weary and all the angrier for it. With each moment he rejoins to them, I lose my hold on him. And he strengthens. Sickens, Argus corrected grimly. It’s strength from where I’m standing, Alya flared back at him, still railing against Ignacio. It matters not, Kaia interrupted. The bond must be broken. He is too far, too involved, Argus objected. We cannot separate them. They are… one. The siblings considered this gravely and sorrowfully, for even then they knew what they had to do: choose. Ignacio, or the kirins. We cannot have order, cannot have balance, without Ignacio. Kaia, the words pulled reluctantly from her. And we cannot have Ignacio so long as he has the kirins. Alya, panting with the effort. We are agreed. Argus, a solemn note of finality suffusing the bond between them. Alya, distract him until we give the signal, then fall back and- I know. And she did, they all did, the thought bouncing back and forth across the bond, dark and ugly and horrible. She was angry, they all were- for this situation, for Ignacio forcing their actions, for placing this decision now and forever on their immortal souls. Taking that anger, Alya fed it, focused it, whipped it into a whirling, focused ball and hurled it at Ignacio, engaging his attention once more. He staggered, his physical body weakened, tattered from Alya. Had he been himself, he would have long since run off to nurse his wounds and injured pride; but he was not himself. And so the fire god only shrugged off Alya irritably, more than half of his essence still with his mortals, his beloved, glorious creations. Argus and Kaia remained focused on the mortals’ battle. Argus wove his deft webs of magic over the kirins, confusing, tricking and generally distracting them from Ignacio. Cunningly, Argus brought the concerns of the kirins own flesh to their foremost attention. And Kaia spread the plan amongst her own mortals, and Alya's as well, for she had long since stopped distinguishing between pegasi and unicorns. Slowly, the battleground shifted. Unicorns and pegasi seemingly fell back in retreat, while Kaia and Argus put every ounce of energy they still possessed into luring the kirins towards the very center of Valore. Argus wielded his Psychic Manipulation with deft, calculated precision. Kaia joined him, leading with Reality Manipulation, and together they joined and amplified their powers. Rocky fissures and spikes leapt from the earth with a touch of Kaia’s mind, herding the kirins unerringly together, while they followed both the visual lure of the unicorn’s retreat, and the subconscious lure of Argus’ insidious suggestions. It was walking a fine edge, a precipice on which the fate of them all, mortal and god alike, rested. Ignacio, wounded, his life’s essence leaking from him even as he gloried in the burning valour of his creations, laughed aloud as Alya parried with him, for they were advancing once more; nothing, nothing was mightier or more glorious than they, marching through the very seat of their power. A heat was rising again, building as they kirins bunched together, drew strength from their fellows, amassed and carrying a god within them. Steady, Kaia cried to the pegasi and unicorns, who felt the shift in the battle, felt the rising sense of doom carried on the hot winds. Steady, my beloveds! And winged and horned alike heard, and listened, and took heart. And they held rank, even as the air, the very fabric of existence, trembled, that heavy, static moment before the flash of lighting, the crack of thunder. Break! Released, the unicorns and pegasi immediately scattered, as fast as hooves and wings and the blessings of distracted gods would let them. There was no pattern, no direction to their sudden scramble, save one: They, in all directions, distanced themselves from Valore. Ten heartbeats they had, only ten. It would not be enough, the gods knew. Many would not reach safety in time; yet they dared not extend the time any more, lest Ignacio-kirins grow suspicious of the sudden retreat. Necessary, they did what was necessary. A justification and mantra to burn within their hearts for centuries to come. Ten heartbeats. And Ignacio was fading from his siblings, swept away in the joy and pride of the kirins as they witnessed their enemy's retreat before them, inferiors unable to witness the glory of the supreme. MY CHILDREN, MY PEOPLE, MOST GLORIOUS AND BELOVED CREATIONS! TODAY YOU FULFILL YOUR DESTINY, FORGED IN YOU LONG AGO! MY FIRE RUNS THROUGH THE VERY ORE OF YOUR VEINS, MY LIGHT SHINES THROUGH YOU AND WE NOW AND FOREVER WILL- NOW And that still, anticipatory moment suddenly broke, was shattered as air, earth and arcane joined together in a violent union that sundered the very elements they governed, each god reaching deep within themselves and tapping the deepest resolve of their power, releasing it with deadly, catastrophic disregard for safety. The earth buckled and twisted, rock sliding across rock in painful dissonance, reflections of the discord within Kaia’s own heart, her warring pain, and rage, and loss. Yawning, grief-filled chasms opened, cliffs crumbled to the sea, mountains erupted from the earth in screaming showers of rock that carved and scarred the land. From Argus came a raw, leveling blast of pure and unadulterated magic, fueled by his desperation, his pain and his RAGE at the loss of his home and people, a close parallel to his earlier demonic raging. In Valore and elsewhere across the planet the very laws of nature, known constants and dependants, suddenly went awry. Bubbles of illusion sprung up, twisting and shifting, popping at random, spreading more horror and chaos than ever a physical element could achieve. And the air… Oh, how the air sang its release, rising above the clumsy world below in a spiraling maelstrom that swept the world in a great dampening beat, leveling cities, deafening ears, blinding eyes. And as the air sang its vengeance, its righteous fury, so it began to sharpen, to coalesce into a fine, focused point, soaring ever higher. Earth and arcane followed, drawn to the wind like moths to a flame, rising and rising, while in their wake reality stretched, taut and brittle, unraveling before the force of elements unleashed. As the pressure grew, as time stretched and stilled, so the Ignacio-kirins did as well, faltering only once in their triumph, only that once, to look to the sky. Only once did they pause, and yet it was for the last time, because they had been given only ten heartbeats. Ten, come and gone in a conflagration of joy and victory, ending in shining eyes that looked above like so many glittering stars. Ten heartbeats, to glory, to rejoice, and to witness their destruction as the thrice born meteor, burning from the heavens as if in homage to the conquerors, exploded into them. Burning hearts, burning eyes, seared into time forever in their moment of glory. Eventually, the earth stilled. Periodic tremors still trembled deep within, but the surface was still, the alien new landscape shining baldly in the sun. The currents of magic swirling through the air, running through the land, began to spread, to dissipate, and realities began to reassert themselves, to realign. And the air… the air was already quiet, already still, had been ever since the meteor had exploded. Slowly, the smoke cleared, weak sunlight breaking through to illuminate… Valore Ignacio was on his knees, god’s blood flowing unheeded from his body as he trembled and shook in the middle of a massive, stark crater, eyes unseeing, nostrils flaring rapidly in time to shallow, erratic shuddering breaths. And along the rim, looking down in complete silence stood air, arcane, earth, water. Alya too was bloodied, feathers bent and limp, slender legs trembling in the still air, yet her eyes were bright, focused as they locked on to Ignacio’s prone body. Look what you caused, those burning eyes said. Look what you made me do. Argus was near as wearied as Alya; he had lost some control over the precarious balance of his inner magic, and his form flickered at random, hinting at the wild, dark arcane lying latent and patient beneath his natural form. But he did not tremble, and his grave eyes did not flinch from the burden of beholding his fallen brother. Arcane relies on balance, and balance had been served that day. Look what you made me do, and remember. Her legs as solid, as rigid as the new mountains that had been forced into existence, Kaia stood as a stone, but her eyes showed what her siblings did not; tired, they were so tired, and revenge suited the earth not. Look what you made me do, those eyes lamented, absorbing the loss, the pain. And alone of the four stood Cascade, unwearied, unburdened by the altering of reality; such events had pulled her, called her here against her better judgement, but she had not partaken in them. And alone of the siblings did her gaze not rest solely on Ignacio, but roved to include all four of them. What have you done? It was here, at the end, that Ignacio's siblings finally followed his command: they witnessed him, alone, solitary, beaten. No joy, no glory. Only loss, and destruction. If Ignacio felt those gazes, those silent admonishments, warnings, regrets, he did not react to them, not at first. Shaking in the rising dust and ash, the weak flames choking and fading all around him, he stared ahead, at nothing. Alone- he choked once, lips trembling as his mind rejected the knowledge flooding him from all sides, all senses. Gone, they were all gone and he remained- My… people, he rasped, the words catching on the filtering, swirling ash. Cascade had turned her horror-struck gaze to Ignacio as he stirred; now she returned it to her siblings, accusation wafting across the bond. Wearied and bloody, Alya was nonetheless never one to quail before a challenge. Eyes flashing, the god of air lifted her golden head, wings flaring defiantly. Blood and feathers swirled through the sun-streaked air as she leapt off the edge of the crater, landing in a cloud of ash and dirt in front of Ignacio. He did not look at her, did not appear to even notice her. Wings fluttered ominously in response. Your people are gone, Alya ground out harshly, the words falling sharp and jagged from her mouth, breaking into ugly pieces as they shattered the silence. Dull eyes, the glowing sparks smothered, jumped, flickered once, and turned upwards. We- my... kirins- Destroyed, Alya interrupted coldly. Look what you made me do, look, look, look- Valore… Blue eyes dulled once more, falling away from Alya, staring sightlessly at the smoking crater wall. Destroyed! Alya repeated angrily, flaring her wings and striking the earth with a sharp hoof. Exhaustion, pain and guilt all ran together, joining with the anger thundering through her blood and lending her tired voice strength, the false armor of desperation. Blue eyes had flared, had snapped back to Alya, and for a moment Ignacio’s shudders had stilled, every line of his body falling into tense repose. NO- And in a swirling shower of ash and dust he began to struggle, dragging himself upright inch by inch as his mind reeled, railed, rejected the empty new reality he was born into. You will stay down! A blast of air accompanied the stringent words, flattening Ignacio to the earth once more. He gasped, and struggled as Alya ruthlessly pinned him, pulled the air from his lungs, smothered his rallying flame until he lay quiet once more, broken sides heaving. You will stay down, and you will listen, she snarled, hating him all the more for how easily he was subdued, for showing such weakness. You will listen, you will bear witness to your crimes, and you will remember! Above, the other siblings watched on in grave silence as Ignacio stirred, thrashed, and was effortlessly contained by Alya, whose burning gaze did not flinch, merely narrowed. Your mortals are destroyed, the air god said, over fire’s renewed struggles, desperate murmurs, denials. Your mortals, your city, your poisoned bond. Look, look what you brought upon yourself! Upon us! YOU DID THIS! The last words were a ripping scream as again Ignacio voiced lament for his lost people. We lost countless of our own mortals, you pathetic, barren excuse of a star- It was either you, or your mortals. This, quiet and heavy with the burden of it, from Kaia as she interrupted Alya’s raging rant. And of course, they all knew, the knowledge wavering implicit between them, it could never have been Ignacio. Balance, balance. Ignacio, breathing heavily as he swung his gaze to Kaia, seemed to shudder throughout his entire self, not just his physical flesh but his very essence, wounded and cleaved though it was. He stood, and Alya, her feathers ruffled and trembling in time to her flaring emotions, let him. You… you cannot do this, Ignacio rasped, pulling the tattered remains of his arrogance around himself, a laughable veneer. We already did. Vicious satisfaction, venom dripping from every word, burning holes in the the silence, in their hearts. THEN I WILL CREATE THEM AGAIN! Ignacio bellowed, the words ripped from his sundered soul with such pain, such want that Kaia closed her eyes. But she did not flinch, and neither did her siblings. His flames had flared, light had kindled in his soul as he contemplated his mortals once more, then a buffeting blast of air had snuffed the flames, slammed Ignacio back to earth with enough force that the crater rim trembled. Alya pinned him there, ripping the air from his lungs as he struggled against her. Blue eyes rolled desperately, widened as they perceived suddenly all four siblings standing now next to Alya, ringing him. Ignacio fell silent; something in their gazes terrified him, something that was vibrating in the bond between them, shared by them (but not him, he could not feel yet, would not feel, his people, his people)- You will never create them again, Alya hissed as she leaned in, pressed him harder to the earth, while around them the others bowed their heads in solemn, binding agreement. Never, never never… And if you try, if you even try- We will obliterate them again. This from Argus, the words calm but suffused deeply with his rage. And with promise. You can never have mortals again, do you understand? Alya, the wind rising as she stepped back from her fallen brother, releasing her hold. Ignacio stood slowly, legs shaking, flames sputtering weakly, erratically, and as he looked at each of his siblings, he felt the resolve and anger emanating from each of them. Alya and Argus were still radiating with fury, Alya’s burning hot and Argus’ a searing freeze. Kaia and Cascade harbored resolve tainted with regret, but resolve nonetheless. Never, never, never… Fire, do you understand? Alya snarled as Ignacio stood there, eyes growing distant, unfocused. Something was building in them, a burgeoning flame, too raw, too raw, even for him. Do you- WITHOUT THEM, WITHOUT VALORE, I AM NOT FIRE, I AM NOTHING! NOTHING- And even as the words were torn from his throat, Ignacio was turning, twisting, pulling the shreds of reality to him in a burst of flame that blinded his siblings, rent a tear in the fabric of time and space as he burned, shedding his physical flesh, his pain, and his betrayers. And then he was gone. Four remaining elements remained, stood in silence, statues save for the gentle waving of hair in the acrid wind. Connected they remained to each other, and so felt the echoes, ebbs and flows of shared emotions, too abstract, too raw to be spoken, merely witnessed and acknowledged. This cannot happen again, Cascade said finally, accusation tainting the words, the bond, and she felt her mark hit. Witnessed… The earth, it needs to heal. Kaia, the implacable, stubborn solidity of her element lending her steadiness. Arcane runs rampant; it will not reorder for some time. Argus, unbearable exhaustion and pain filtering through the bond. The skies will rage for many turnings to come. A note of pride, and also weariness, from Alya. They stood as statues once more, silent communion. Then- It is agreed, Cascade spoke finally. This world needs time to heal, to reorder. We will withdraw. It is in the hooves of the mortals now. May they thrive where we did not. And so it was that the gods of Hireath turned away from their mortals on that terrible day, withdrew into the cosmos. To watch, to witness, but no longer to interfere. That was the agreement, forged in blood, in shared pain and loss. And thus it fell to the surviving mortals to pick up the pieces of their broken lives, broken lands, and to continue in a strange new world. Category:Lore